CHAPTER 3 – THE GIRLS' DORMITORY
Hermione grabbed Ron's hand, willing him away from Harry's bedside. She moved forward silently, hoping to put a little more distance between them before she unloaded on her new boyfriend. She was only half-angry, for despite her frequent protestations, she had always loved the gallant side of Ron's personality. However, in this situation, her sympathies lay wholly with Ginny, who definitely didn't need an incensed big brother to intervene on her behalf. As far as Hermione was concerned, Ginny had already been forced to deal with enough challenges in her relationship with Harry Potter.
For the past year, Ginny had sacrificed everything she had ever wanted so Harry could maintain his sanity. She had done her best to understand Harry's noble, yet maddening, attempts to keep her safe. She had understood. She had understood perfectly, but it had hurt her deeply. Hermione had been her only confidante during the first few weeks following their break-up, so the older girl had seen first-hand how terribly Ginny had suffered.
Hermione also knew how thoroughly Harry had been devastated to break things off with Ginny. She had seen the haunted expression in his eyes and heard his anguished outbursts whenever his dreams dredged up his gravest fears - an attack by Voldemort upon his precious treasure. Ron, of course, had snored right through Harry's nightmares; at least he had before he left them to fend for themselves.
Thankfully, Ron had returned, beleaguered and ashamed. With the passage of time, he had managed to work his way back into Hermione's good graces, but had it ever been a question? She had been head over heels for this boy for years, although their mutual insecurities had managed to make a mess of things until the preceding evening, when war had stripped away the last of their defenses. Hermione was rather proud of herself for making the first move and finally crushing the obstacles that had kept them apart for so long. She hadn't batted an eye when their headmistress caught them snogging, and she remained determined that nothing would come between them, not now that Ron knew unequivocally how she felt about him. But, damn, that man could be so daft at times! It was really quite infuriating - cute, certainly, but infuriating nonetheless.
At last they reached the entrance to the Common Room, where Ron started to take a turn to the right. Hermione would have nothing to do with it, however.
"Ronald," she implored, "take hold of my arm and hang on tightly."
He looked inquisitively into her deep brown eyes and nodded his assent. Before he knew what was happening, Hermione turned on the spot, and the pair Disapparated. There was hardly any time for the pressure to mount against their bodies before the couple appeared with a soft pop in a bedroom decorated in a distinctly feminine fashion. It took only a moment for Ron to realize that he had entered the forbidden territory of the Gryffindor girls' dormitory.
"This one is mine," said Hermione cheerfully, as she directed her boyfriend onto her bed. "I've missed my comfortable bed, no matter how … interesting … it has been to share a tent with you."
"And Harry," answered her boyfriend, sounding something less than chuffed. "You've no idea how frustrating that has been for a poor bloke, Hermione."
"No more frustrating than it's been for me, Luv," she answered softly.
"Really?" he asked, amazed at both her confession and the affectionate nickname she had used for him.
"Yes. Really. Although you tried my patience when you walked out on me and Harry," she replied sarcastically, knowing full well that his departure had done far more than simply tried her patience.
However, it was not her intent to revisit that subject, for Ron had more than proven the depth of his remorse. Still, the pain managed to work its way to the surface more frequently than Hermione liked to acknowledge.
"Well," thought Hermione, "I'm not going to continue to dwell on things we can't change. We've waited far too long already."
"Yeah, you and Harry," muttered Ron, a tinge of jealousy rising in his voice.
"Ron, you knew as well as I did when we decided to go with Harry that his task was going to take precedence over everything else. Everything! Unless Voldemort could be vanquished, none of us could look forward to much of a future, anyway."
"Well, certainly not Harry," said Ron.
"Nor you, Ronald. Neither you nor anyone else named Weasley had any hope of a decent life."
"Blood-traitors wouldn't have fared much better than we 'Mudbloods' once the Death Eaters got their plans fully implemented. I'm actually surprised your family didn't have to go into hiding earlier than they did, especially after Ginny tried to steal the Sword of Gryffindor!"
"Speaking of Ginny, we really shouldn't have left those two alone, Hermione. It's not right, especially after what Harry did to her last year."
"Ronald, I'm giving you about two minutes to talk about Harry and your sister, and then I'm going to shag you senseless. We've wasted far too much time already, and I don't intend to wait any longer! Do you understand?" she said, straightening her back and gazing forcefully into his eyes, daring him to contradict her or catch on, whichever came first.
From the look in his eyes, Hermione knew immediately that he hadn't understood what she was saying – not in the slightest. He was thinking about his best friend and his little sister, whom he seemed to have forgotten, was less than three months shy of being of age. Hermione had thought the word "shag" would have seized Ron's attention, as if it had been an anvil dropped from the top of the Astronomy Tower. But once Ron Weasley got focused, he had always been hard to redirect.
"Well," Hermione thought contemplatively, "I doubt our children will ever have problems with concentration… Children! Where in Merlin's name did that come from?"
"Harry was really off base back there, wasn't he?" asked Ron.
"No. Harry wasn't off base. Ginny doesn't need her big brother to protect her any longer. She's a big girl now. However, before you get all worked up at me," she continued, fully aware of the scarlet coloring that was rapidly spreading up his neck, "he did go too far."
"Exactly what do you mean by that?"
"I mean he accused you of having criticized everything he's done with regard to Ginny. You haven't been that way. You really haven't. In fact, I was very proud of you last year."
"Really?"
"Yes, Ron. Really."
"Honestly, Hermione, I've never felt like you were proud of me."
"Well, you do make it hard sometimes" she teased. "But I am proud of you … except when you're driving me mental. You're brave … and strong … and loyal … and when you don't let your insecurities get the best of you, you're right sexy."
"Sexy?" he asked, a grin beginning to spread across his face.
"Yes, sexy. Why else would I have fancied you for the last five years?"
"Five years? But … but … but what about Krum? I thought you fancied him … that you snogged him."
"No, Viktor tried to snog me, but he didn't have any luck."
"Why not? He's an international Quidditch star … and you even said you liked really good Quidditch players."
"You really are daft, sometimes. Truly. I only said that because I was hurt and jealous."
"You were hurt? What about how I felt after Ginny said you'd snogged Krum?"
"Ginny said what?" she queried, as a large piece of a particularly frustrating puzzle fell resoundingly into place.
"That Harry had snogged Cho, and you had snogged Krum, and that I was only mad at her because I was the only one who hadn't snogged anyone!"
"And this would have been when?" Hermione asked, already knowing the answer.
"Sixth year. When Harry and I caught her with Dean Thomas. Just before … just before … well, just…" he said, trying to complete the sentence.
"Just before you started making an arse of yourself with Lavender Brown," she said. It wasn't a question. Hermione knew full well when things had started, but she had never understood why Ron accepted a date with her then immediately started carrying on with Lavender - thrashing around like a pair of eels, as Ginny had described it during the discussion about Harry's alleged hippogriff tattoo. Hermione couldn't suppress a tiny laugh, hoping soon to confirm that Ron did not have a Pygmy Puff permanently etched into his tantalizingly freckled skin. Things had started to become … well … normal for a few weeks, as she, Ron, Harry, and Ginny had settled into a comfortable period together. Then, Dumbledore had died, Ginny's heart had been broken, and Harry's task had taken priority over whatever had been building between Ron and Hermione.
"So much wasted time, no matter how important the reason," Hermione lamented silently. "All the more reason to act now!"
"Ron, I never snogged Viktor," she said emphatically. "But if I had, why should it have mattered? You never showed any interest in me. Why would you hold something against me from a time when you weren't interested in me?"
"I've always been interested in you, Hermione."
"But you never said anything. You never did anything. And when I asked you to go to Professor Slughorn's party, all I got in return was the chance to watch you sucking Lavender's lips off her face!"
"Because you had snogged Krum. I was a loser … a tosspot … and you were the girlfriend of an international hero."
"Ronald Weasley! I was never his girlfriend. I never snogged him – not even once. I never even wanted to, because … because … well, because he wasn't you!"
"Really?" said Ron, as a look of hope began to sparkle in his eyes.
"Yes. Really," Hermione answered for the third time, more softly, yet determined to let her feelings be known. "Because he wasn't you."
The look on Ron's face was one of sheer disbelief. Hermione could tell that he wanted to believe it, but the concept was totally foreign to him. He must have thought that no one, excluding Lavender Brown, had ever wanted him like that. But he was wrong, she knew, because she had wanted him that way for almost as long as she had known him. From the time he sacrificed himself on the chessboard, showing more bravery than Hermione had ever thought possible, she had wanted him. But she realized that he had never known it, so she decided she would have to make him understand it all.
"Ron, when you allowed yourself to be nearly killed on the chessboard, you melted my heart. When you stood up for me to Professor Snape, and when Malfoy called me a Mudblood, I knew you were braver … and kinder … and more worthy than anyone else I had ever met."
"Anyone would have done those things. I didn't do anything special."
"Bloody hell! If you won't believe me, then I have no choice but to show you," she said with more than a hint of frustration in her voice, although it didn't match the wicked grin beginning to spread across her face.
"Mind your language, Hermione Jean Granger!" said Ron, although Hermione thought he seemed pleased with her unusually colorful choice of words.
Hermione knew that the time for words had passed. In a flash, she threw her arms around his waist and began kissing him fiercely. In order to have the maximum contact possible, she hoisted her right thigh over his legs, which had been dangling over the edge of her bed. Running her tongue over his lips, she invited him to deepen the kiss, which he did happily. The feeling was becoming familiar, yet still exciting.
Their first kiss had happened less than twenty-four hours earlier, but Hermione already knew that snogging wasn't going to be enough. She slipped her arms beneath his Weasley jumper and ripped his shirttail from his jeans, as the hunger to feel his skin consumed her.
"Hermione, what are you doing?"
"Ron, I've waited years for this, and I'm sick of waiting. I already told you I was going to shag you senseless, and I meant it."
"Sh ... sh ... sh … shag?"
"Do you have a problem with that?"
"Hell, no! Not as long as you don't," Ron answered, all the while helping Hermione pull both his shirt and jumper over his head.
As soon as Ron's chest was exposed, Hermione began unbuttoning her blouse as quickly as possible. Moments later, her bra was cast aside, and Hermione's ample breasts were held tightly to his chest. The feeling of her delicately soft skin pressed against his taut muscles was better than Hermione had even dared imagine. She felt daring, yet totally safe in Ron's arms. She could tell that Ron was having a similar reaction, for he shuddered noticeably when they came together without the annoyance of clothing between their bodies.
Ron's arms now held Hermione tightly; one hand nestled between her shoulder blades, the other brushing her neck while reaching reverently into her thick brown hair. It felt brilliant, and Hermione bemoaned all the time they had wasted playing silly games, sacrificing happiness in order to protect themselves against their childish insecurities.
"Well," she thought, "we were children at the time. But a year spent trying to evade danger and death certainly ended that."
Hermione broke their embrace, reluctantly pulling her lips from his, but she needed to look at Ron. She needed to run her fingers through the light dusting of red hair on his chest.
"God, he's beautiful," she thought silently. As she pulled away, Hermione heard a gasp escaping Ron's lips. She looked up to find him staring, awestruck, at her breasts. She smiled softly, knowing that she had no insecurities about this aspect of her physical appearance. Her breasts were among her best features, heavy, full, and firm, with small pink nipples adorning her alabaster skin. She knew full well that Ron was not disappointed, as his already strong erection pressed even more intensely against her center, separated only the fabric of their jeans.
Hermione was tempted to gaze into his eyes forever, but the need to taste his lips was even greater.
She once again closed the gap between them, kissing him with every ounce of emotion she possessed. Ron's hands slipped slowly down her sides, eliciting a shiver from Hermione, before he gently enveloped her bum. Both moaned simultaneously as Ron pulled her more firmly against his crotch. Hermione was quickly losing control but realized that had been her plan all along. She broke free of their kiss and slid her lips to his ear, trailing a line of kisses along his jaw as she moved.
She opened her lips as they reached their destination and began flicking her tongue into his ear in time with the thrusts that were bringing their hips together in waves. Ron's moans intensified, and he shivered each time her tongue pressed against the sensitive skin. She realized that she must have been affecting his equilibrium, for he seemed to sway unevenly with each insertion. She had never imagined having this much power over a man – this man – and the thought was completely intoxicating.
"God, Hermione," he gasped. "You're so fucking beautiful!"
Hermione had been so aroused … so excited to take charge of the situation … so near the point of losing control, that Ron's adoring words propelled her over the edge. An orgasm ripped through her body with astonishing speed. The release softened her desire for only a moment, as her vision became lost to rich darkness, and all her weight collapsed upon him. Her attention refocused suddenly, however, as Ron's movements became erratic.
"This won't do at all," blared her mind in alarm.
Hermione released the grip she held on his ear. "I need you inside me, Ron," she whispered. "Now," she continued as she moved her hips away from his and reached for the buckle of his belt. She was shocked when Ron suddenly took her hands away from his body and looked deeply into her eyes.
"Are you sure about this, Hermione?"
"Of course I'm sure. Have you ever known me to do something this important on a whim?"
"Well," he replied, "before … before we do this, I need you to know that ... that I love you."
"Of course you do. We wouldn't be doing this if you didn't," she answered gently. Her eyes drifted up to his, expecting to find the reverent gaze he had shown her only moments before. Instead, a wrinkle of concern creased his brow. How could she have been so blind? How had she assumed that he would know what she had felt for so long?
"Oh, Ron," she whispered passionately. "I love you, too!" Her sardonic sense of humor made her want to tease him by adding the words, "you daft boy" to her sentence. However, she withheld the comment, understanding that it wasn't funny to Ron – wasn't funny in the slightest. No matter how astonishing his sense of humor, it was his heart that demanded she understand just how much she meant to him before they made love for the first time.
"Oh my," thought Hermione. "He really is the most wonderful man!"
As Hermione's "I love you" came forth, she felt Ron's grip relax on her hands, telling her that she had permission to continue. She unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and began slipping the clothing away from his hips, careful not to touch his erect penis. Hermione was completely inexperienced with men but knew that if she had been overcome by an orgasm, Ron couldn't be that far removed from a climax either. She was determined that this would not happen in her hands, or worse yet, in his boxers. She then pulled away from him completely, kneeling to remove his trainers. Only then did she reach up and remove the rest of his clothing.
The sight of a completely naked Ron Weasley caused Hermione's heart to accelerate. As blood raced through her fully aroused body, Hermione's clit began to throb with need. She suppressed a desire to rain kisses down upon the flesh she had desired for longer than she could properly remember. Instead, she stood up, kicked off her own shoes, and reached for the button to her jeans. However, Ron's hands got there first.
He managed to work the button free and lowered the zipper. Wasting no time, he slipped her pants off, revealing simple white knickers. Hesitating for only a moment, he slipped his trembling fingers beneath the elastic waistband and tugged the knickers to the floor.
Ron was unable to contain a deep groan of desire the moment he saw the soft patch of brown curls, framed perfectly above her muscular thighs. Nearly a year on the run had hardened Hermione's muscles without diminishing her feminine appeal in the slightest. For some reason, she found herself without embarrassment as she stood unclothed before her boyfriend.
Hermione hadn't imagined herself to possess such confidence, but knowing Ron as well as she did, loving Ron as completely as she did, why should she feel ill at ease in his presence? Physical intimacy, she knew, was simply the completion of what they had spent years building between them.
Keeping her wits about her, Hermione took her wand and cast a contraceptive charm. "Slide up on the bed," she requested, before following along. She wanted to crawl on top of him, to kiss him once again, but the sight of his obviously throbbing cock caused Hermione to change her plan. If there was one thing Hermione Granger had always been able to do, it was to identify an objective and use discipline to obtain the proper results. She wouldn't have become top of her class otherwise. She was already wet with desire, so Hermione straddled the prone form of her boyfriend. She grasped his cock, positioned it beneath her opening, and slowly descended upon it, feeling the incredible sensation of the thick head slipping between her labia.
Ron moaned loudly, and began to thrust up to meet her, but Hermione placed her palm firmly against his chest. His hips halted immediately, but he allowed his large hands to run gently up her ribcage until they cupped the sides of her breasts, and his thumbs swirled lightly about her hardened nipples.
"Please, Ron," she whispered, "this is supposed to hurt. Let me do this slowly."
"No!" he replied, suddenly apprehensive. "I can't hurt you."
"It's going to hurt, whenever we do this. I want it to be now," she said as she closed her eyes and continued to push his erection deeper into her body. Before long, she felt it pressing against her inner membrane. The stinging sensation began with the slightest application of pressure.
Ron must have felt it, too, she realized, for he was pulling away, when moments before he had been thrusting up toward her. There was no way for her to deny it, Ron Weasley had always tried to protect her - had always known when something was about to hurt her, physically or emotionally. He really was a remarkably chivalrous young man, and Hermione wondered how anyone could have thought him the least of the Weasleys.
"Well," thought Hermione, "I haven't ever made that mistake, and I never will."
Summoning all her courage, Hermione pushed down, trying to suppress the tiny cry of pain that burst forth, nevertheless. Her eyes snapped open to find a look of panic in Ron's eyes. She felt his penis beginning to soften in response to her pain.
"It's okay, Ron," she whispered reassuringly. "It's already beginning to feel better."
"Oh, Hermione," he murmured, "I do love you."
"Love you, too."
Ignoring her discomfort, Hermione leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Given the difference in their heights, Ron's cock slipped perilously close to escaping from her. Both partners felt the loss and thrust quickly back together. When Hermione did not react painfully, she felt Ron's erection returning to full strength.
"Ron, this feels wonderful," she said, amazed at the surge of pleasure where moments earlier there had been pain. She pulled away again, followed by another thrust downward. The sense of arousal increased, and the pain began to fade into memory. She closed her eyes, and allowed the feelings to wash over her. With a few more thrusts, Hermione began to establish a comfortable rhythm, inviting Ron to come along.
"I'm … I'm … I'm not … going to be able to last, love," Ron stammered, as his thrusts became more intense.
"You don't need to," she whispered gently, increasing the pace of her movement and opening her eyes. Hermione wanted to see his face the first time he came inside her. His expression of bliss warmed her heart. Ron was apparently thinking the same thing, as he opened his brilliant blue eyes. The moment their eyes met, Ron slammed upward against her, screaming her name. Hermione didn't believe in angels, but gauging from the look in his eyes, Ron obviously thought he was looking at one. The expression of love in his face was overpowering and brought Hermione to an orgasm she had not been expecting. Wave after wave of pleasure, joy, and fulfillment swept over her.
As her body returned to normal, Hermione relaxed on top of her lover and kissed him with a depth of emotion she had never felt before.
This time, Ron broke the kiss. "I love you, 'Mione," he whispered. It was the first time he had ever called her by a pet name. She realized, gratefully, that it never would have felt right before.
"I love you, too, Ron," she replied.
"I know you do," he answered, without any trace of levity in his sleepy eyes.
A sense of joy swept over Hermione. Miraculously gone was the constant look of insecurity that had haunted Ron's emotions since she had first met him. He seemed to have relaxed more completely than she had ever witnessed before. Hermione slipped gently to his side and thrust her back toward him.
Ron rolled over, draping his arm over her, pulling her to his chest in exactly the same protective manner in which Harry had embraced Ginny. Before she fell asleep, Hermione felt Ron pull the comforter lovingly over their waists.
